


Disloyalty

by LazBriar



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Anal, Dirty Talk, Hazbin Hotel - Freeform, Hotel Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral, Smut, Teasing, commission, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazBriar/pseuds/LazBriar
Summary: Ever wonder how the romp between Travis and Angel Dust went down? Well, now you will!





	Disloyalty

**Author's Note:**

> A commission from one of my readers! How sweet of them. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had writing it!

**Disloyalty**

Love ain’t so quaint.

For a damn long while Travis tried to keep things all proper like with his hag down below. After all, they died in the same shootout, yeah? Seems right to try to keep the knot tied, even if you’re in hell. And Pentagram City? What a place! Got everything a vagrant could want! Drugs on the easy, so much alcohol you could turn your blood to a cocktail, quick fuckin’, the works. Murder, hell, that was a sport, and _encouraged._ Big Daddy Apple really made it a playground, eh? So mix all that together and it’s like, a honeymoon never ending. For a while, everything was great!

But as you start countin’ clocks, the miss wore out her welcome. Dunno. Something about her started to grate him. She got all possessive like. See cause down here, ya’ got tits by the handful (literally). There’s a succubus roundin every corner. The fellas will have a go at you, if you’re into it, just ask. In fact, it was so common, the filth of the city had expectations for the big three in every establishment: booze, blow, and bitches. Not havin' was unusual, alien.

Well the miss didn’t take so kind to the 'excessive' nature of hell (a prude in the afterlife, who woulda' thought). What the hell did she want him to do!? Wear a blindfold? You couldn’t take two steps down a street without some Cheshire thing flashin’ her goods, or a she-he making a pass. Ugh.

Well, guess luck favors the sufferin’. You can only take so much caterwauling from a hag before it gets old. The icy nights of couch sleeping, the chew out seshes because Travis stayed out late. It drove him to drink and drove him to whorin’. But, by whatever miracle, Travis didn’t find himself with cheap slash. Oh no no no, this was the glitz and glamour, baby. Primo clientele kinda shit, like, _way out of his league_ shit.

They met like ya tend to with loose fingers. Travis knocked a few back at his favorite dive, a reasonably priced noisy bar, and at his side who else should appear but _Angel fuckin’ Dust._ Was he hitting the sauce too hard? He rubbed his eyes, blinking. His drink wasn’t drugged, was it?

Nope, hell no. If he had one good quality it was his sight, sharp as a knife. He boggled, wiping his mouth, dumbstruck.

That damn spider was givin’ him the once ever, grin carrying mischievous intent, gold tooth glinting in the bar light.

“Ya’ know babe, schlubs tryin’ to drown one out usually do it ‘cause the rump-and-bump ain’t so good. If they’re getting’ any at all.”

(Artwork by Viv, [commissioned by KittyArt](https://twitter.com/art_magoo))

Travis glanced around him. Angel was talking to _him?_ No effin’ way.

“U-uh.”

Angel Dust snickered. “Stunning opener, babe. Bet ya’ hook all the gash in town with that one.” He clicked his teeth, giving him a finger gun.

“You talkin’ to me?” said Travis, almost dropping his glass. He lifted his hat, like the shadow over his eyes played a trick. Angel sneered, rubbing his head.

“Holy shit! He _does_ speak! And he catches on quick too. Yeah _you,_ barfly. I could practically smell the loneliness comin’ off you. That or piss cheap cologne.”

The occurrence started to dawn on Travis. Again, he looked around, the busy bar flooded with demons of all shapes and colors. But out of all the raucous and midnight chaos, the spider in the suit wandered over his way. Hot damn, what’d he to deserve this? Cause’ ol’ kinky boots had a reputation, a servant of specific, ritzy clientele. Either you saw him in adult films, or in the bedsheets – but only if you had serious dosh to knick em’ for a night.

Travis cleared his throat. “Oh. Well.”

Shit, how’d this go? Oh yeah. “Er, buy you a drink?”

Angel Dust leaned in real cozy like, close enough Travis got a catch of that pricey perfume. Damn, this she-he was pretty. Travis didn’t really take to fella’s too often, at least not when he was swinging hips with the miss. But after weeks of putting his nuts on ice he was up for anything. Angel Dust? You’d be out of your mind to turn away his attention.

“Haha, I’m all warmed up toots, no worries. But thanks.”

He leaned into the bar, his fluff, impromptu tits pouring out. Something about that made him extra enticing.

“I’m more keen on snowy nights, if ya’ catch my cut. But I ain’t hasslin’ for charity.”

Again, Travis blinked. He meant drugs.

Angel Dust gestured to the crowd. “Good luck catchin’ some primo bait out there though. All the holes are stuffed and nobody’s open to a third player. But youuuuu. . .”

Now Angel gets _real_ close. One of his spare hands slides on Travis’ leg, giving it a rub.

“Somethin’ tells me your fuzzy friends haven’t gotten a workout in a looong while.”

Travis gulped. Oh _shit._ The spider played around, but Travis understood. He also exploded with heat, the kind that overwhelms you in proximity of, well, getting your cock worked over. Unless Angel was lookin’ for some kinda small talk, those hands looked eager to grip em’ where the sun don’t shine.

Angel propped his chin in palm. “Judgin’ by the silent treatment, I’d almost get the impression you don’t want me. Almost, cause I see _somebody’s_ getting excited.”

Yeah, no shit. Travis’ cock was already twitching, hard underneath his pants.

“Uh, damn. Uh. Yeah. Forget this dive,” Travis finally said. “Let’s go somewhere. They got a place right across town we can talk more.”

Angel Dust sneered. “Yeah, I’m sure our conversation will be _real_ fascinatin’.”

-*-

 _Dik n’ Drain_ was one of those easy-going pitstops a demon could make for a little romp, perfect for a skeezy one-off with Pentagram City’s premiere porno star. You could call it a hotel, but that implied you were after more than an hour or two of company. As much as Travis fancied the notion of a slut spider to suck him off on the reg, he had no grand notions about this. He just wanted to get it _in._ He scored a room easy-like, something on the third floor with a view of the city. Angel Dust smirked all along, leading his latest catch up the stairs, given’ those hips a gentle swing, luring in his prey. Travis was all a-flutter, and not because of his owl-y disposition. Fuck Angel looked good. Could barely tell he was packin’ himself, the pretty little princess. _Fuck_ he couldn’t wait to fuck.

When they arrived at the door, Angel waited.

“Ya got the keys, genius.”

Oh. Apparently, Travis was still lost in thought, wide eyes locked onto his entourage for the evening. “Er, right, right.”

Angel chuckled. “Nervous? Awww, don’t be. Ya’ acting like this is your first time, feathers.”

As the door opened, Angel formed a wild smile. “Ooh, is it!? You a virgin, handsome? Ooooh tell me I get to pop ya’ cherry, that’d be _extra_ sweet. Ain’t nothing like desperate, sexless loners.”

Travis grunted. “Huh! What!? No, n-no! I’m not some. . . I got a wife!”

Angel pushed the demon in the room, kicking the door shut with kinky boots. “A wife? Naaaaaughty. I’m gonna’ take a crack at it, but guessin’ she ain’t the sharing type?”

Travis grumbled. “Hmph. No.”

He looked around. The digs were nice, all things considered.

“This, uh, t-this is pretty fancy for a blowie.”

The spider chittered with chuckles. “Whaaat? Are ya’ kidding? I give all my clients the a-plus shebang. Don’t tell me ya’ prefer the dirty alley and dumpster, _daddy._ Cause we can do that shit if you’re into it.”

Travis blinked. “Er. No. Hotel works.”

Angel strut towards him. “Thought so.”

At once, Angel’s limbs were upon him, all four hands stroking his sides and gripping his shoulders. “So, ol’ ball-and-chain is a greedy gal? What a shame. So guess mum’s the word on this little meetin’ of the saints? Don’t worry, feathers, I’ll take care of ya’, keep the lipstick real subtle-like.” He flicked his hat, patting Travis’ cheek.

Travis flushed, taken aback. The spider was content to keep this at a nice, brisk pace, if his palms caressing crotch was any indication.

“Shit,” Travis hissed. “H-hang on, shouldn’t I pay ya first?”

Angel snickered, leaning, kissing his cheek, nipping at his ear. “Aw, what a gent. Your old lady must be so lucky to have ya.” Further, his hands sank, sneaking underneath Travis’ trousers and squeezing his yet unseen cock, stirring it to life.

“We’ll get the deets of my bank deposit settled later, but first. . .”

Those skilled hands went to work, extra pair slipping off Travis’ belt, unbuckling him. The chime of loosened metal filled the room, while Travis exhaled, groaning in delight as Angel started tugging down his pants. It’d been so long since anyone besides Mary and her Five Sisters touched him. He _had_ to watch, heart bursting to life as searing, hot adrenalin flooded his form. It was a delicious liquor, the poison of flesh, the kind of thing lightin’ you up like bourbon. Once your dick knew it was about to get in something hot n’ wet, the rest of you fucking _lost it._

Travis moaned through his teeth. “Can’t wait to drain my nuts n’that pretty little mouth!”

Angel’s eyes flicked back to Travis, blushing. “Ohoh, that so? N’dunno feathers, might be hard for little ol’ me, you’re such a _big_ one!”

Ah, there it was. Angel yanked down the rest of Travis’ garments, exposing his black flesh to the hotel air, letting the thick meat flop out and pulse as it twitched to life. Wasn’t long before the flag was at full salute, Angel quick to twirl his fingers around the girth, applying slow, teasing strokes. Travis arched into it, a growl roaring from his throat. Ah that fuckin’ spider! Gloves like smooth silk! Shit, shit it was so long and damn he was already touching in the _perfect_ ways! He felt ready to burst _himself_ all over the spider’s grip. But no, no not yet. If he was gonna’ mess anything, it’d either be that sweet, pretty face or his hot little hole. Both, preferably.

Before, Travis was nervous, he couldn’t lie. Not for a fast night of fuckin’, and _certainly_ not because of his ‘disloyalty.’ Fuck the hag, she was probably on tracks for the train while he was out slingin’ dope for denars! No, because it was Angel Dust. Like hot damn, this guy could run your head in like a canoe much less lick your nuts. He wasn’t just a pair of nice spread legs, he was a criminal aficionado.

But now the adrenalin was kickin’ in. Mixing it up with alcohol, lust, and weeks’ worth of sexual-frustration and you’ve got one hell of a cocktail! Travis was worried less about how he might appear, and more how best to make a sloppy mess outta’ this spider slut.

“You’ve got a lot to say, pretty boy,” uttered Travis. “Hope them lips ain’t just for talking!”

Angel took both hands and stroked the length in succession. “Aww, ya’ don’t like my oh-so interesting dialogue?”

Travis groaned, almost whimpered. If this fucker didn’t get his mouth on his cock right now he was gonna’ force him! He couldn’t take it!

But, Angel didn’t torment him for long, sliding to his knees, a heavenly sight. He kept the cock in palm, breathing on the tip, kissing the air, but not the flesh. “That’s okay, feathers, we’ll get acquainted like this. . .”

Angel pressed his lips against the bellend, wrapping the tip in his wet oral grip, mumbling as he drew the first inch into his chamber. Travis groaned, long and loud – not just from getting his dick in the slut’s mouth, but because it’d been so fuckin’ long. Ugh, keep me in your mouth forever you twinky little whore. Angel flicked his eyes up, granting a knowing gaze. Two free arms clamped to his hips while he snared the bulging shaft with skilled mouth, suckling the hot pole, driving it into maw.

Travis was beside himself, head leaning. He was practically drooling! “Ohhh fffuuuuck that’s good. . . keep going you fuckin’ slut. . .”

Angel chuckled, though his laughter was muffled by the fat cock shoved into him. The spider proceeded to slowly bounce his head against the inches, each motion creating a sloppy, loud chorus from the coupling. His lips kept a tight, smooth grip, dragging and smearing his gloss against the obsidian spear, rivers of drool travelling down his chin as he worked.

He popped the cock free, grinning, licking his teeth, wiping a tear from his eye. “Nnmf, daddy’s got that driller dick. I’unno, I might just choke on it, I’m scaaaared. . .”

Travis figured the spider was lying for effect – whores often did. But he didn’t care. Watching Angel goddam Dust slurping on his pole was ecstasy. He grabbed Angel’s head fluff, grinning, heat pouring from him.

“Oh yeah? Too big for ya’, princess?”

Angel held the flank, tapping it against his tongue, smooching the bellend. “Maybe. But I like a challenge. Fuckin’ wouldn’t be fun otherwise!”

Before Travis could cut in with a quip of his own, Angel was back at it, but this time with renewed gusto. He _slammed_ the cock into his awaiting mouth, pushing it into throat, bulging the wet tunnel as he embraced the bestial root. Travis’ throat caught, tongue hanging out as the spider slut worked him over, mashing his head in brutal, powered strokes. He engulfed the rod until his lips travelled to the threshold, holding the flank until his cheeks started turning a bright red. His mascara ran, tears running down cheeks as he gurgled and coughed.

“Nnnagghh, fuck yes,” Travis hissed. Devil, he was over the pentagram. His icy wife never did this. Most he ever got was a wet handjob on his b-day.

He looked down, grinning at the struggling Angel. “Wanna’ get hitched?” he chided.

Angel Dust slurped, pulling off the malehood with a loud ‘pop,’ the ebon spear dripping with sticky trails of glaze, saliva, and presex. Angel sucked in breaths, smirking, wiping his mouth.

“Only if ya’ can share, toots,” he shot back, kissing the tip. Travis pet the whore’s head possessively.

“How bout you just suck my nuts and we’ll call it even?”

Angel Dust put a finger to his chin, feigning thought. “Hmmm. . . deal!”

Oh fuck yes. Travis was treated to the sight of the effeminate arachnid chasing his stones, letting that practiced tongue lap and lick against the fat, heavy orbs. He kissed them with a vicious, voracious assault, allowing cock to rest on his head as he worked the spheres over. Too good, too good.

“Hang on, hot stuff, gonna make a sloppy mess out of your-”

An agitating ring cut Travis off. The horrible, demonic chime of his phone. His phone!? His inner pocket rumbled, heart going cold. Oh shit oh shit oh shit! Angel quirked a curious eye, but did not stop, tickling Travis with his tongue.

The owl-y demon was beside himself, however. He scrambled for the device, pulling it free. When he saw the caller name, he swore. The hag. Fuck, what now? What would he do? He didn’t like the bitch but at the same time, couldn’t exactly cut it clean! And if he didn’t answer, he’d get an earful! Devil, shit, why now!?

He thumbed a button, answering. Wasn’t easy with Angel fondling his boys!

“H-hello?”

Yep, it was her all right. At once, her shrill voice burned through the phone, hitting him with all the usual. Where are you, what’s going on, why aren’t you home, yet, that kinda’ thing. Travis tried to answer, but it was hard getting a word in.

Angel, on the other four hands, looked at this like an opportunity. He ceased his attention of the black orbs, instead nuzzling the tip, listening. Travis looked down, a panicked, strained look overtaking him.

“ _Hey, just wait!”_ Travis whispered. Angel sneered.

“That the miss? Can I say hi?”

Travis shook his head. “NO!”

Said miss continued to assault Travis with questions, each one he brushed off (or attempted to).

“Nothin’ baby, nothin, just w-with the guys, g-getting some dus- I mean, uh, dope, dope, for the streets, y-y’know!”

Angel was beside himself, hiding laughter. Oh? Trying to pretend he wasn’t here, huh? Naughty. Well, the spider wasn’t about to make things easy. He resumed his previous motions, embracing the cock with his skilled mouth, slurping and suckling with _excessive_ emphasis on noise, while Travis grimaced. Not from pain, oh hell no, but because it was so fucking good.

“N-n-noise?” said Travis. “Nothing, b-background noise!”

Angel didn’t stop. Now, his extra hands went to the heavy stones, gently cupping and caressing the hefty orbs while he worked, squeezing. _Carefully,_ but squeezing all the same. Ooh, so daddy could keep it together under pressure, huh? Not bad, probably a good trigger in a firefight. But Angel still had other sneaky methods.

For a moment, Angel paused, pulling off the drooling cock and spitting on his remaining fingers. Once he started slobbering the thirsty knob again, those digits went straight for the backdoor, pressing into Travis’ ring, nudging the tight hole.

This, of course, froze the big boy as Angel worked the anal passage in steady, slow motions. Not to harass, but to coax the ever-so sensitive prostate. Travis glared at his spidery assailant, eyes flicking from panic, pleasure, and uncertainty. Angel Dust gave him his own devious glance, drowning the client in an entourage of lewd motions.

Angel paused, opening his mouth, tongue out. “Come ooon daddy, cum on me, cum on my tongue, nm? Pleeease? Your twinky bitch boy neeeeeds it!”

To the hag, Travis must’ve sounded like he was dying.

“S-shut up!” he said, trying to hush the hooker. His “lady of the night” was relentless, though, pulling his mouth open, shaking his head.

“Mmf, you know you wanna’, stud. Make a mess of little ol’ me! Pleeaase?”

Travis was trembling, so eager. No no no! Not this soon! And dammit, the whiny simpering of his old lady on the other side wasn’t helping. She asked if he was okay. Okay? Okay!? Bitch he was balls deep in the hottest mouth of Pentagram City, he was fine!

“I’m f-f-fine,” Travis managed, “S-s-see you in a bit. . . schnookums. . .”

Angel Dust snickered.

Travis dropped the phone, paralyzed. The spider had him on all fronts; fuckin’ twink even got in the backdoor dammit! He wasn’t into that! Except for that one time at bandcamp. . . but that was like, eons ago! It was uncomfortable! But also. . . really good. Damn, those fingers _did_ know where to go and gave the pucker a nice workout. Fuck his cock was twitching now, and he couldn’t hold back anymore.

His hands gripped Angel’s head and thrashed himself into the soft, oral entry, his shaft exploding with an eruption of hot seed. This caught Angel off guard, who yelped as the member hilted itself in the tight throat like a sheathe. The tip burst to life and searing, sticky white issue flooded into Angel, sending a deluge of demon spunk into him, enough that the stuff sloppily pooled from his lips, a concoction of saliva and essence.

Angel sputtered, held there as Travis drained himself into the Arachnid, head rolled back. Oh the ecstasy of a fresh orgasm, like nothing else. Best part? That she-bitch back home had _no fuckin’ idea._

He was panting, eyes watering, face o’ flush, practically breathing steam. His grip loosened and Angel slid off, coughing again. He spit, some of the semen and saliva on his hand, using it to lube the shaft again. Of course, post orgasm touches were nothing short of _intense,_ and Travis squirmed at the touch.

“Nnnn. . .”

Angel tapped his tongue with digit, a string of issue connecting the two. “You poor baby, you were so backed up. Sheesh, ice queen got your nuts sittin’ in the freezer, huh babe?”

“Yeah,” Travis managed through hot breaths.

Angel frowned. “Awww, m’sorry. Everyone deserves to get laid, even sleazeballs like you.”

Travis looked down. That was nice, but he wanted – no – _needed_ more.

“Hope you aren’t ready to scram so soon, hot stuff. . .”

Angel, content, started to stand, glancing at the bed. “Wha? Me? Oh _babe,_ that’s what I call a warm up.”

Didn’t take a genius to figure what out what Angel had in store. He flicked Travis’ hat, knocking it off, straddling him free from the rest of his attire, shirt and all. Then, with surprising strength, pulled Travis toward the bed, shoving him into the sheets.

“Whoa, frisky,” Travis commented, his libido returning. He took a breath, massing his shaft, stirring it back to life.

“Not gonna’ jam a dildo up my ass, are ya?” he asked as the spider stripped down too, crawling atop the bed.

“Only if you’re into it,” said Angel with a sneer, gold tooth glinting.

It was clear Travis wasn’t, but Angel didn’t mind. He was more interested in the pole at full mast.

Angel clambered over him, pressing his hands into shoulders. Travis held back a satisfied grunt, watching that curvy body slink over his waist, the generous rump shoved into his stomach. For a moment, Angel’s white cheeks held the shaft betwixt, testing yet again, teasing with the proximity of more pleasure. Travis grimaced, but not from pain. He clamped onto Angel’s rear, granting a harsh squeeze, claws digging into the fluff.

“Don’t fuck around,” he hissed.

Angel laughed. “Ain’t that what we doing right now?”

Urgh. Clever bitch.

Before Travis could lob a quip of his own, Angel raised his hips and pressed his pink pucker against the nuzzling, ebon tip. He sighed, heat catching his breath, black crown looking for a way in. Slowly, he sank, embracing the shaft in his inner tunnel, his own shaft springing to life. As the flank punched into him, spreading ring, Angel’s length hardened to life, dribbling with presex. Someone else was getting their prostate worked and it was all the more enjoyable for ol’ kinky boots.

Angel started a gentle rhythm, the practiced rise and fall of skilled hips. For Travis, it was bliss. Hot damn, that seething hole was a snug fit! Damn, spider! Tight event he probably banged and got banged by a bunch of clients. No doubt some were plenty bigger, too. But despite all the “experience,” he held him like a drum, practically choking the veiny dick. Any more and he’d lose oxygen down there!

The spider increased momentum. Every stroke of hips lead to a faster, stronger bounce. Every collision of hips and rear sent lewd wiggles through Angel’s backside, and Travis cherished the sound. Hot damn, boy was packin’, huh? Sure had the hips of a lady!

“Nnnthat’s it you fuckin’ boytoy,” Travis growled, watching as the spider rode him. “So goddamn good!”

Whether dramatics or no, Angel’s head went “sloppy.” His tongue hung out, his eyes rolled up, and whimpering moans escaped him with every toss and throw of his lower body. His form slowly dappled with sweat and cheeks went apple red, prick wobbling with very motion.

“Nmm, daddy g-got that big dick!” he muttered between motions. Well, wasn’t that such a pretty thing to say? Travis felt his ego swell. This was _his_ cock inside Angel Dust, making him sputter like a virgin in the barn. If he was puttin’ on a show, well it was damn convincing.

Now he was feelin’ it, feeling himself. Months of that noise machine at home not puttin’ out, not showing any appreciation for all his damn work on the streets? Fuck! He shanked bums just so they could make a livin? Well, who’s laughin now ya throwaway skank? He had his dick in somethin’ nice and fancy, kinda’ boy who’d swallow and _thank_ him for the opportunity!

“Fnnuh!” Angel whimpered, grippng the sheets as he tossed himself with violent throws on the obsidian demon dick.

He leaned into Travis, voice hot and low, biting at him, singing sweet nothings into him. “How’s it fee, nmm? Gettin’ your dick worked by Angie, mmeh? You like me bouncin’ off that big cock?”

Travis shivered. Damn! One second he’s a mess the next he’s saying all the right things, like liquor in the years. Oh fuck, come on babe, say more. He wanted to hear how he was this slut’s best fucking ride, true or no. Didn’t care now, why’d that matter? He was all in.

“Fuck I shoulda’ snagged you off the streets, spider!” grunted Travis. Damn, if he could come home to this every day, he wouldn’t care if he was in hell.

More Angel whispers. “Too bad babe, guess ya’ gotta share.”

Travis, overwhelmed with horny heat, was almost ready to pop again. But hey, he was a generous skeeze, right? Spider-bitch had worked him over so good he could return the favor, eh? He smacked Angel’s ass, the other hand coming to the whore’s dribbling prick, gripping the inches and applying his own, smooth strokes. No, he was no Dusty, but hey, no reason not to give some lovin’ back, eh? If the spider cums, he’d make the bitchslut do it _his way._

Angel appreciated it, at least. He arched, eyes rolling, hastening his hip-tosses, purring loud and long as his prostate nuzzled the end of Travis’ crown, perfectly stretched and pounded. Travis’ motions helped plenty too, adding a generous wave of electric pleasure through his loins. He didn’t _have_ to do it, takin’ it backside was plenty intense as is, but appreciated all the same.

Angel caressed Travis’ chest, getting close. “Mmmf, c’mon stud! Pop for me!”

Travis grit his teeth. Send him down the creek, he was dead. His cock writhed, ready to explode, balls roiling again as prepared to flood this bitchy boypussy with _himself._

Maybe it was the long, lonely nights. Maybe the concentrated lust pulsing through every inch of his frame, or maybe he was just a desperate, sexless loser. Either way, Travis yanked the spider down, cock bristling, forcing the spider in for a kiss. This incurred a surprised, muffled yelp from Angel, lips locked in place while Travis’ perverted little tongue explored the whore’s mouth. Heh. He could taste the salt of himself. Guess he pumped himself into Angel good like a fuckin’ firehose.

Angel blushed, returning it, lips smeared against the other as Travis – once again – burst to life. The spider gave a muffled shriek while Travis’ free grip held the spider down, clutching his rump so hard he nearly drew blood.

White rivers jettisoned from Travis’ ebon tip, much like before, flooding the pink sanctum with his sticky issue. He bucked upward, making sure every drop of _him_ wasn’t wasted. Finally, he broke the kiss, a sloppy trail of saliva bridging the two, while Angel let off a pleased coo, reaching peak himself. Being the gentleman he was, Travis worked the spider-prick, pumping the inches until a stream of white burst from the pink-white flesh.

A lewd river of sexual congress spilled along Travis’ chest and abdomen, causing him to chuckle. Now that ya’ couldn’t fake, and he felt a thrill of pride run through him. _He_ bust a fat nut inside the spider whore. Twice. _And_ got the tasty morsel to cum. Not bad for a sleazeball, eh?

Their motions ceased, as all matters of “courtship” do. Angel slowed, his tight hole leaking with issue, wiping his brow.

“Fuck,” he said, giving a slow blink. “Almost drowned me, feathers.”

Travis gave a sinister chuckle. “I can if ya’ want me to.”

A smirk. “That costs double.”

Travis shrugged, leaning back in the pillow. Angel slooowly pulled off him, a small trail of spunk leaving him as he did. The nake frame waltzed over to his clothes, pulling out a cig and a lighter. He gestured to the demon.

“Smoke?”

Travis grinned. “Much obliged.”

For a moment, he shared the most intimate thing you can with a one-night romp: a cigarillo. Hah!

-*-

The poison lights of Pentagram City danced over Travis’ black hatchback as he sped up next to a sidewalk. What? He was still a gent. Sorta. Least he could do was give the bitch a ride. Angel Dust was in the passenger seat, shooting a gesture towards building side, a family of vending machines his focus.

“Right there, feathers.”

Travis did as requested, making a quick park at curbside. Angel – purse fresh with fat cash – stepped out in one slick motion, adjusting his hair-fluff, leaning over the car.

[Travis sneered. “Thanks for the fun time, hot stuff.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gfLUjFtIat0)

Angel smirked before kicking the door shut. “Yeah yeah, listen. Keep this discrete, ya’ hear me? I can’t let it get out I’m offerin’ my services to _randos_ on the street!”

He wiggled his fingers together, pointing with all arms. “It was a quick cash grab, ya’ got it?”

Travis couldn’t hold back a laugh. Really? After all that, the fancy whore thought he could play it all proper now? He came _to_ him. Psh. Guess his dick was too much for the spider to handle, huh?

“Pfffft, whatever you say, _slut!”_ Travis shot back, chuckling wickedly.

Angel wasn’t impressed, miming pain. “Ouch, oof, such an insult. Tell me when ya come up with something creative to call me you sack of poorly packaged horse _shit!”_

Travis went blank. Wha. . . that little! Hey! He can’t!

Angel Dust leaned in, smirking. “Tell the misses I said hi. . . schnookums.” Adding insult to injury, Angel gave him a little bess, a mocking smooch. Travis’ features crumpled, agitated.

Little shit! He thought he was clever huh? Why he oughta. . .

Grrg. He pressed the gas, leaving it at that, muttering to himself. "Packapoorlypa. . ."

As the silhouette of Angel disappeared behind him, it wasn’t even the insult making him angry. Goddammit, now he had to see the hag again.

Love ain’t so quaint.

 


End file.
